


Aftermath

by Alex_Write



Series: Sentinel Clint & Guide Phil [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, Hurt Phil, I can't think of tags, M/M, Not Beta Read, Post-Battle of New York (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 12:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13053987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alex_Write/pseuds/Alex_Write
Summary: With Loki's invasion, Bonded Sentinel and Guide - Clint and Phil - are separated on multiple levels. In the aftermath of the battle, Phil healing and Clint half out of his mind, they only have one thing on their minds. Each other. Damage has been done, though, both mental and physical.





	Aftermath

Phil swept up the unknown alien weapon into his hands. He knew how to fire it – the research team having figured that out at least – and though he didn't know _what_ the weapon did, he could only hope that it would do enough. He didn't see that he had any other option anymore.

The other alien, the one who called himself Loki, had taken his Sentinel. The bond had gone quiet, and Phil couldn't feel Clint. It was like a gaping hole inside him, and though he was trying to keep it together, he could feel himself slipping. He knew, logically, that Clint was still alive. He'd seen video of the other man, proof of life. Inside though...it felt like Clint might as well as be dead and he wasn't sure what he was suppose to do. Guides had gone insane at the loss of their bonded Sentinel, in the past; the same could be said for Sentinel's when they lose their Guides.

Swinging the weapon up, Phil aimed as carefully as he could with the given time frame that he had for the shot, and pulled the trigger. The backlash of the weapon jolted him back, kicking him harder than any other weapon he'd been trained to use. It wasn't the kick that stole his breath, though. No, that would be the feeling of something going through his chest.

Vaguely he could hear Loki talking, and he thought that perhaps he'd responded in some way. He wasn't even sure anymore. Behind the pain of his own body he could feel his bond with his Sentinel suddenly flare back to life, filling his mind with bright colors before dimming again. Clint was freed of Loki's mind control, but had fallen unconscious. He was okay though. His Sentinel was alive and okay, and Phil had him back.

That was his last thought, before his own world faded into black.

~*~

Clint forced his body to move, to act and react. He could feel his blood pumping in his veins even as it felt like his heart was breaking and trying to leave his chest. Still he forced himself to move, to shoot faster, to react faster. He couldn't let himself slow down, to take any more hits than he had to. He couldn't let himself or anyone else on the team fall. He played back up to everyone on the ground and in the air even as he tired to do his own offensive work.

When the battle was over, he didn't need anyone to tell him. He could feel it inside every part of himself. His Guide was gone, and he hadn't been there to save him.

With the adrenaline from the fight wearing off and his focus turning to stay on what he'd loss, he could feel his legs collapse beneath him even as a scream ripped itself from his throat. His senses flared out, trying to find what he'd loss. He knew that he wouldn't find them. Phil wasn't going to be there, he'd never hear his heart beat again or smell the combination of gun powder, ink, and cheap donuts that had made up his scent.

Part of him recognized the sound of people talking around him, of hands settling on his head and arms wrapping around his shoulder. The touch made him struggle, lashing out at the invisible – to his eyes – threat, his senses telling him that someone was trying to keep him from finding his Guide.

Then there was a sharp prick against his neck, and everything fell blissfully black once more. Even in the darkness, though, he cast about wildly for the bond that he knew that he'd never feel again.

~*~

The sound of a soft beeping filtered into Phil's consciousness as he forced himself to swim up out of the darkness that kept trying to drag him back down. Then there was the sound of chattering, of quick feet and alert people. He could feel hands against him, the slick rubber feeling of latex against his skin.

Forcing his eyes to blink open, Phil tried to adjust to the reality around him as quickly as possible. He let his mind and senses take in what was going on around him even while he cast his abilities about to try and find his Bond. He overlooked it a number of times before finally noticing it, the muddled feeling of the Bond to his Sentinel immediately sending him into distress. It was almost worse than when he couldn't feel anything from the Bond at all.

Hands and voices quickly tried to soothe him, alerting him to the fact that he'd apparently done something to let people know of his distress.

Moving the primary part of his attention away from the Bond, he instead looked around and focused on one face that he knew and trusted. “Maria...Maria...where is Clint? What has happened?”

The stern woman frowned slightly as she moved closer to his bed, her hands clasped tightly behind her as she looked over at the other people in the room as if asking permission first. Whatever she got in response was positive for him at least, as when she turned her attention back to him it was along with a nod and a grim look.

“When Loki escaped his cell, you ended up getting severely injured. We were able to get you into a surgery room, but ended up loosing you briefly. The team was able, ultimately, to get you patched up. However, the healing process has been long and...hard...on you. We've had to keep you sedated because you were ripping your stitches out and you put yourself back on the operating table twice.”

Phil continued to stare at her, knowing that she knew that she hadn't given him the information that he was wanting. The minor flinch that she gave at his piercing stare confirmed this.

Slowly she continued on. “Barton...Clint...he didn't do so well when you flat lined. He was just going into a fight when it happened and afterwards...well, you were sedated. It seems he was unable to recognize the bond with it being suppressed by the sedatives. We ended up having to sedate him and put him in an isolation room. They attempted to wean him off the sedatives, get a Guide in there to help him find your Bond again, but he still hasn't been able to. We've been forced to keep him on low-dose sedatives to keep him calm.”

That at least explained why the Bond felt so muddled. Without both of them consciously aware of the Bond and with Clint still on sedatives and him just getting off them, it wasn't surprising that the Bond didn't feel right.

“Take me to him. Now.” The demand spilled off his lips before he even knew that he'd thought it. Of course he wanted his Sentinel near him, he always wanted Clint near him. Normally he was able to cope, they both were, which was what made them two of the best Specialist and Handler team that SHIELD had. Right now though, with the phantom pain still lacing through his body and the Bond feeling so strange, the want had turned into a need.

Immediately upon the words passing his lips, the nurses and doctor in the room started to speak up at once. It was hard to pick out individual words, but Phil was able to tell that everyone was in agreement that him moving from the bed was still a bad idea.

Maria simply held up a hand, silencing everyone in the room with one motion and a sharp look. “I know and I agree with you all. Phil, while you're in no danger of opening the wound if you move, you're still in no shape to actually get up and move around that much. You've been out for over two months. You also still aren't completely healed  _inside_ , even if your chest and back have mostly healed over.” This time her hand motion was towards him, cutting off the biting retort that wanted to push its way out. “I'll call the security teams and have them bring Clint  _here_ . We'll have to give him more sedatives, so he'll be out of it, but we've used only Sentinel safe products for you so it should be safe to bring him here. If he can see you then maybe we can start to wean him off the sedatives again.”

Phil settled back onto the bed, nodding sharply. If he couldn't go to Clint, then at least his Sentinel could come to him.

Once Maria seemed satisfied that he wasn't about to jump up and try to fight his way out of the room, she stepped outside the door to make her phone call. While she was out of the way, the nurses and doctor went back to work; settling him more comfortably on the bed, checking his IV, using a pen light on his eyes and checking his temperature and pulse. Once satisfied, they also removed all the extra monitoring devices from him, leaving him with only the bare necessities which he'd have to keep Clint from removing.

The minutes seemed to blur together, Phil moving his attention back away from the people in the room with him and back towards the Bond. He could feel it when they gave Clint more sedatives, the Bond becoming more fuzzy and muddled than before. Even though he wasn't able to read anything off the Bond, he still focused on it. Mentally grabbing it with both hands and holding onto it like he could anchor it to him and keep it from slipping further.

~*~

Clint stumbled slightly as he followed the two Nulls that were doing their best to guide him down the hallway. He didn't want to go, didn't want to move. The what-felt-like-the-last-forever, his emotions had simply bounced between raging and depression. His Guide was gone and he could no longer feel the Bond that had tied them together. He had never realized how much he grounded his senses on Phil or felt for the Bond day to day. Now that it was gone, he found himself searching and grasping and coming out empty handed.

The farther along towards they destination they got, the more Clint's ever searching senses perked, his glassy eyes darting about trying to figure out where the familiar smell and sound was coming from. When the men guiding him brought him to a fumbling stop in front of a door that a number of people in scrubs exited, the scent and sound was stronger than ever, just behind the door.

Without much thought, he stumbled forward, pushing open the door as quickly as his drug clumsy hands would let him and he practically spilled into the room. Neither of the men who'd brought him followed him into the room, but he couldn't bring himself to really notice or care. Not when there, laying on the lone bed in the room surrounded by medical equipment and hooked up to things was his Guide.

His very alive Guide.

He didn't know how he managed to make his way to Phil's bedside, but it seemed like between one blink and the next he was there. Fighting against the sedatives that pulled at his mind, dulling his senses and his reactions, Clint reached out to lay a hand on top of one of Phil's making brown eyes blink and focus on him. The hand under his turned and fingers laced through his. A gentle tugging pulling him onto the bed, Clint doing his best to not just spill onto the bed.

Carefully, Clint buried his nose into Phil's neck and wormed his free hand and arm under the Guide's neck so he could stroke his hand against his other arm. He couldn't help but snake his tongue out to lick at the spot that he'd been nuzzling against, letting all of his senses gorge themselves on the man now in his arms.

Once he'd let all of his senses latch back onto Phil, he closed his eyes and searched for the Bond one more time. This time he was able to find it. It felt fuzzy and strange, he could see how he'd have over looked it before. Now that he'd found it again, he could recognize it having been there, just waiting for him to notice.

When a hand moved up to carefully run through his hair, Clint let out a soft sigh and sank further into his Guide's side. He couldn't believe it. He'd lost track of how long it had been since he'd seen Phil. The days had blended together quickly, between the feeling of his heart and mind breaking, the undiluted sorrow, and the drugged haze that had filled his life since the moment he'd realized that he'd lost his Guide. To have him now in his arms again...

They stayed like that for what felt like mere minutes, though Clint had a feeling that it had been much longer.

When the door opened again, a nurse pushing in a cart laden with food for both of them, Clint tensed and opened his eyes, turning his head to watch her. He tensed as he moved closer, ready to attack if necessary and he noticed with half a mind that she didn't look like she wanted to be there. Phil's hand still carding through his hair and the softly whispered words from his lips stayed any attack Clint wanted to make to the potential threat on his Guide.

The nurse left the cart next to the bed and took a few steps back before talking, her voice grating to his ears though he did his best to focus through the slowly fading haze of the sedatives they'd given him before. “Food for your and your Guide, Sentinel Barton. Your Guide has been unconscious for a long time, Sentinel, healing. He should eat lightly, fluids first. The bed controls are on the side of the bed. Someone will be in again in 3 hours to check his IVs and to take away any dirty dishes.”

Clint didn't relax until the door closed behind the nurse. Once he was sure she was gone and that no one else was going to come in, he carefully pulled away from Phil and helped him sit the bed up. Though he didn't move off the bed, he didn't move to recline next to his Guide again, instead pulling the roll out table tray between them and then stretching to move the cart closer.

Keeping his focus on the food and the tray, he moved a bowl of soup onto the tray closer to Phil and grabbed a thick sandwich for himself. “I want to feed you, which I'm guessing is what everyone else thinks is going to happen, but...well...I mean, as near death as this was an all, it doesn't change who you are. You're Phil, you can kill someone with a paperclip, I don't think you need help eating. But, I need contact, the bond is still fussy to me.”

Phil smiled gently at him, the smile that he only gave Clint, and shuffled his legs to press more into Clint's hip. “I know what you mean, Clint. If you want to sit up here under the blanket you can, or if you want to stay where you are you can. Whatever you need to do to remind yourself that I'm not going anywhere.”

Mood lifted slightly, Clint pushed the discomfort away and focused on unwrapping his food. It felt like he'd spent a life time away from his Guide, he knew that the comfort that they'd fallen into wouldn't snap back into place right away. For now, he decided, he would make sure that his Guide ate, wait for all the sedatives to work out of his system, and then he'd map the other man again. There was bound to be new scars to learn, and if Phil had spent much time in bed then he'd probably have less muscle mass too.

It wouldn't be easy, but he was looking forward to figuring out where they were headed now. Undoubtedly they would need to reaffirm their bond again, which he was looking forward to. His senses had been running free for so long too that he knew it was going to take work to retrain them to where they use to be. No matter what, though, Phil was going to be there and in the end that was what mattered.

With that thought, he happily bit into his sandwich, smiling toothily at Phil who simply rolled his eyes at his antics while carefully sipping the soup that he'd been provided with.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Not Beta read.
> 
> I hadn't really planned on continuing my Sentinel Clint/Guide Phil verse. However, I couldn't get it out of my head about what would have happened to them in the after math of the Battle of New York and with Loki having taken control of Clint's mind. I'm not really happy with the ending of the fic, and it's a lot shorter than I wanted. I'll probably go back later and change the ending and try to make it less sappy. It doesn't really seem to fit this pairing.
> 
> Anywho, comments are always welcome. As are Kudos of course.


End file.
